#AmericanWriters #Desire #Love #Relationships #SocialCommentaries & & Complicated, Gender Realistic Sexuality
The hollow eyes of shock remain Electric sockets burnt out in the skull. The beauty of men never disappears But drives a blue car through the
A quart of champagne, one pill too… and a paper from the state saying… Was it the pills or champagne no simply some orange roses in a glas… on the bureau to transport myth fr…
to Somes from incarceration, Taunton State… gaunt, ugly deformed broken from the womb, and horribly… at the labor of their forefathers,…
A simple poem About love is what I want To write: words Without mystery, but Shoulders touching
Perhaps some day you shall find me… as I blow smoke out my mouth While you walk the riverbank in the rain on Sunday evening. Looking for jazz, hearing love’s b…
Destiny lies behind our forces and what lives in the soul dies not. It inhabits our dreams as perpetual as light. As the spring grass flowers,
Not as bad as you are And the next time that I see you I shall be old, a figure Couched from under acquaducts Where you still remain abroad a si…
O poetry, visit this house often, imbue my life with success, leave me not alone, give me a wife and home. Take this curse off
The scene changes Five hours later and I come into a room where a clock ticks. I find a pillow to
Our age bereft of nobility How can our faces show it? I look for love. My lips stand out dry and cracked with want
I have never stopped loving him from the first moment I cast eyes… although they made us rob Brink’s whether up the chimney. he stopped loving me
For I have seen love and his face is choice Heart of H… a flesh of pure fire, fusing from… where all Motion is one. And I have known
Yes I put her away. But now life flares up As safe as China in a cup You hear the droppings of her heart.
I was young once; and on poverty another palace revolution without… Taking the day the field to wards surrender of material posses…
And with great fear I inhabit the… What wrecks of the mind await me,… to dull the senses, what little I… what more can be taken away? The fear of travelling, of the fut…